beep. beep. beep.
Jack Mort awoke out of a dreamless slumber. What were dreams? He hadn't had any of them for some time now, ever since the last weapons haul from overseas. The alarm clock was just out of reach, irritating Jack as he had to adjust his comfortable position just to reach the snooze button.
"Not another day," Jack said to no one.
Something was bothering Enrico's primary thug, but Jack wasn't the type to analyze. All he knew was something wasn't right, as if something was missing from his life.
The last trip overseas Enrico and Jack took introduced them to some new technologies. Flechette and railgun tech were advancing quickly ahead of armor, and the new technology would do wonders for the criminal underworld. Flechette tech, of which Jack didn't understand, seemed ready for mainstream. Railgun tech wasn't quite there, but the first prototype rifle was ready for use.
On the way back to Decatur, Jack and Enrico had a debate on how long this new tech would reach the ALPD and S.W.A.T. teams. The cutting-edge tech was sure to cut through new armor tech better, but would it be enough? Jack pondered taking out the ALPD with the new weapons before they made it to market. Enrico vehemently was against the act. The ALPD paid him handsomely to NOT commit crime. The two of them talked (argued) late into the night about things, only to get nowhere.
That's when his first thoughts of going out on his own came to him. Jack knew Enrico was the politician-type needed to run a long-lasting gang, but he wanted more action. He also knew Enrico was nobody without him. Together they had a good life, but Enrico always got credit while Jack did the work.
Today was the great unveiling of new weapons to the markets in Decatur, but of course word leaked out early. With the criminal element always on their toes in Decatur, it was tough to keep a secret long.
Jack rushed to the monorail still thinking of what life would be like taking on gangs on his own. No one to split the money with. No one to steal the credit. No one to share the spoils with.
Enrico's hideout was quiet when Jack arrived. Two minutes early, and no one was there but George Biondi. Of course, Biondi was always there. Dude had no life.
"Hey Jack, ready for the great unveiling?"
"I'd rather use the new stuff first, but who am I? We don't even know how well it will work as Balazar hasn't given us anything to test."
George looked at Jack with a blank stare. Typical George. Tell him to do something and he'll do it, but ask him to think and you got the blank stare.
Jack Mort sat in Balazar's hideout meeting area for over an hour before Enrico showed up.
"You're late," Jack deadpanned.
"So, it's good to be the boss," answered Enrico.
"You told the shops the new stuff would be ready an hour ago. No one is going to take use seriously if we don't deliver," argued Jack.
"Jack my friend, they are sheep. They will follow me no matter what. I just wanted to test the new sniper rifle and I have to admit it's sweet. It seems more consistent than any other weapon I've used. Perhaps too consistent."
Jack could only shake his head at this thought. He didn't even hear the part about the gun. Perhaps he was being told he was also a sheep too. He'd followed Enrico for a long time and never realized it.
"Perhaps they are sheep. But they won't follow you forever," said Jack.
Enrico looked at Jack with a puzzled look, then looked down at the new Riot Flail and smiled.
"When you have the only supply of this stuff, who cares what they think. They want to sell it no matter what."
Jack Mort, right-hand man of the great Enrico Balazar, looked at the green-glowing spiked weapon and smiled. Deep down he knew his boss was right, but didn't know how long he could keep calling someone boss for.
The vid-phone rang, and up popped the display of 4 merchants ready to do business. Enrico began what he did best... talk. Jack sat there expressionless. |
